


Run East

by God_of_Death



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 12:57:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10854468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God_of_Death/pseuds/God_of_Death
Summary: A young woman is trapped in a storm cellar with a vampire.Disclaimer: This work is fiction. The characters are my own. Any resemblance to living or dead parties is purely coincidental. For entertainment only.





	Run East

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OriginalCeenote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalCeenote/gifts).



Rural Nebraska, 2010

Down a long, dusty driveway, a light gray sedan came to a stop in front of an old farmhouse with a derelict barn that stood off to the left some sixty yards and a storm cellar behind that. The two gentlemen in the car hesitated and stared at the half open barn doors. The driver nudged his partner, in the passenger seat and nodded to the half-hidden cellar door just barely visible from under a tall patch of yellowed weeds. "It's your turn to feed him, Jimmy." A terrified look as Lou Davis, a soft-headed stooge of the wealthy old man and once playboy, Roland Fitzgerald, gulped a breath and put the car into park. Thick hands gripped the black vinyl steering wheel cover. Slicked back black hair now became mussed and greasy from his constant nervous habit of scratching his hairline.

The smarter man of the pair huffed and tossed an annoyed sneer over at his simple partner. "I know, Lou." Jimmy Thatcher snapped back with a tired sigh then, opened the door. "Pop the trunk and give me a hand." Jimmy grumbled as he climbed out of the car and slammed the door. In turning from the closing car door to the watch the trunk lid spring open and a muffled scream come from inside. Jimmy reached behind him to remove his pocket knife from the belt clip he wore and opening the blade. With a few steps he was in front of the open hatch and gave a crooked grin to the woman inside who stared at him in fear. "Relax, sweets. This ain't for you." Reaching in and grabbing her by the arm he added, "give me some trouble, though..."

Lou and Jimmy each grabbed an arm and pulled her to her feet, letting her stand a moment while Lou closed the lid.

Noting their half attention span toward her, the young African woman elbowed Lou in the stomach and stomped on Jimmy's foot as she broke free of them and took off running towards the golden horizon. Bare arms chilled at the cool breeze of evening and flinched at the scrapings of dried corn husks as she made her way through the dead and still dying corn rows. Tall stalks bit and grabbed at her, snagging her frizzed and curled hair, making her turn and yank free. A change of direction chased her between the rows while she simultaneously worked to remove the thick gray duct tape from her mouth and tightly bound wrists. Zig zagging through the field, she turned too sharply and fell to the ground, twisting her ankle. Freeing her mouth from the tape but not her wrists, she crawled across the dried soil, scraping her arms more until the thin red lines became dark and dotted with fresh blood. Spotting the paved road ahead of her and pushing herself to her feet, she hobbled up to the asphalt and looked both ways before seeing a flash of headlights turning out from behind the field. Fear overcame her trembling body and she turned and willed herself to hobble faster, away from the tailing car.

An arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the ground, minimizing her ability to kick herself free but it hadn't stopped the violence of the actions as she kicked harder, her injured foot hitting Lou in the nose as he stopped the car and got out to help his partner contain her. She screamed just before a hand covered her mouth. Her screamed and muffled groans overshadowed Lou's yowls of a broken nose.

"Arrgh! Come on! Wastin' daylight!" Jimmy growled and set her down, grabbing her by the forearm and pulling her back down the side the road and turning down the long driveway to the house, all the way he grumbled out loud that he not be forced to work with the fickle-brained associate that left without the chloroform. "I'm gettin' too old for this shit!" He turned and snapped at her as he continued to grumble and rave about the chain of unfortunate events that plagued their latest task. "You can scream all you want, little lady. There ain't no one around for miles. Don't worry. It'll all be over soon." Sneering as they came to stop in front of the cellar door, he waved his associate to hurry over and unlock the door. "Maybe you'll make a friend.... before he eats ya." As Lou opened the doors, Jimmy walked her down six steps and tossed her the rest of the way down, into the dimly lit storm cellar as he laughed loudly. "Hey, creeper! Soup's on!" When no sound or movement came, he took two steps down and hunched over to pan the room for the creature that dwelled within. "Louie, get down here and check on him."

Lou turned and spotted the first small cluster of stars growing brighter as the last bit of daylight faded and a nearly full moon on the rise. Returning to face his partner, he flashed the elder man a great look of disdain. "Why me?" With a hand holding the bridge of his nose, his nasally voice deepened and whistled as he spoke.

Jimmy turned around and barked a retort, "Because you're the one with the gun. What do you care? He's chained up, anyway. Now, move!"

Remembering the holstered glock he had holstered on his left hip, Lou brought it up and pointed it at the darkness as he made his way down the twelve cement steps. The rattling of the gun startled him as his hands shook, the closer he came to the bottom of the stairs. Looking around for the girl, finding her wedged into the back corner, next to the stairs and then returning to pan for the captive, Lou took the final step down to the cold, cement floor. A single candle was lit in the far right corner of the room adding very little aid for the fruitless search. Continuing his pan from right to left, he squinted and stared at the dark red velvet bedspread of the untouched queen sized four-poster bed with elegant canopy. He swallowed and continued to slowly move his eyes to the far left corner, where an old plush armchair sat. A large dark axminster rug sprawled along the cold floor, ingeniously concealing the long, thick gray chain firmly tethered to the wall, at the back of the room. "I don't see him, Jimmy." Lou choked down what was left of his saliva to wet his parched throat before he spotted the chained dweller standing before him, just out of arm's reach.

A thin shroud of long, stringy golden hair covered the tall, gangly form. A row of brilliant white teeth, accented with needle sharp fangs widened as the creature smiled in insane fashion. "Tsktsktsktsk, that is a nasty injury, Louis." A textured voice, deep with a hint of ancient English imperfection reverberated throughout the cellar and caused the timid gunman to stagger back in horror. "You really should have me look at that for you. Could be broken." Strained red eyes afixed to the drying blood on Lou's nose and lip. An eager tongue lapped at dried, pale lips. A sharp jerk as his movements forward were ceased by the shortness of the heavy chain welded to the thick collar, around his neck. He maintained eye contact with the simplest of the pair of captors, a soft whine with every exhale.

Jimmy huffed and grabbed the large wooden cross from Lou's left sportjacket pocket and held it up to the creature, seeing him retreat in fear with an ear piercing hiss as he yanked Lou backward and shoved him up the stairs. "Get back!" He pointed to the terrified woman still huddled in the corner next to the stairs and hissed clarification. "That's your meal! We'll be back in the morning to see which one survived. Bon apetite." Briefly meeting eyes with the cowering form and laughing as Jimmy backed up the stairs, he took one last look and slammed the heavy and rusted door shut, locking it behind them. "Come on," he growled and shoved past Lou, who remembered the pain of his broken nose.

##

The thick candle in the far corner of the room rested on a long cabinet with glass doors and housed linens of fine silks and regal comforters of one hundred years prior. The candle itself had burned down to half since his last visitor and lit up a good two foot radius while the rest of the 13 1/2' x 13' square foot room sufficed with the golden glow as it spanned. The wax had dripped over the brass plate it sat on and pooled around the edges on the cabinet top, leaving a thick ring of white. Beside the candle on the back left corner of the cabinet he had placed a row of sharpened stakes from broken chairs and table legs. Next to them, he placed a wash basin with fresh water from the utility sink at the bottom of the stairs.

Large, bloodshot eyes stared at the door as he watched it slam shut with the sound of a heavy bolt that slid back into place. Silence rushed into the room and left a deafening ring in his ears. A fresh scent caught his nose. Shallow sniffs and a craned neck as glowing eyes searched for the meal he was left, reveling in the aroma. "My my, how quickly the time passes when you're starving." Like a predator stalking its prey, the two red, glowing orbs settled on the frightened woman, in corner. "Hello, tomato." The evil smile resurfaced on his dry lips. A mad look graced his pale and skeletal features. "Forgive me," remembering his manners, "I have not eaten in-- well, let's not dwell on the unfortunates of the past. So, if you would be so kind as to come closer, this will all be over with soon." Emphasizing his flirtation with a waggle of his eyebrows, he grinned widely.

When the woman didn't move and only shivered with a visible flinch of her right shoulder, he looked about himself. "I do apologise. Shall I clean up for the meal? I do wish to be presentable for such a delicious looking tomato." Evil laughter rose from his throat as he turned to skip back to the armchair that rested in the corner with a tall thin reading lamp on the right and a small bookcase, to the left. Humming a pleasant tune and tapping each of the spines of antique books that lined the three shelves, he removed the small, tan covered book with the title in golden inlay, "Preparing Exquisite Cuisine" and opened it to page 32. A small white linen napkin folded and neatly placed inside the hollowed book, awaited him. Hastily he grabbed the corner and snapped it out of its holder, neatly tucking it into the button up neckline of the dirty boiled shirt that had long been in need of repair and replaced the book to the shelf. Clearing his throat, he scrubbed his front teeth with the side of a dirty shirt cuff and ran his tongue along them to check cleanliness. He then reached for the old buffalo bristled hair brush that rested on the top left corner of the case and brushed his wiry hair, only covering down to the shoulders before replacing it on the shelf. Gasping in hunger, he froze when his ears picked up movement on the stairs behind him. "You can't get out that way. I am afraid they've taken the key. Now," he set the brush down on its resting place and spun around to stare at her, his jaw trembled with anticipation, "if you please? I am terribly hungry. Starvation does that, you know? I only get very few chances to eat, these nights." Long bone thin hands wrung themselves as his patience thinned. "Have you some seasoning? Oh, I do hope so." The heavy iron links of the chain clinked as they were drug along the floor, allowing him to step closer to the bottom of the stairs.

"Please let me go. I don't wanna die." A soft alto voice rose just above a whisper as she curled against the slanted storm door. Soft tiny curls fell into her face, shading the large brown eyes that watched her captor. Her sleeveless teal shirt was now dusty and torn from the rummage through the corn field doing very little to conceal her form in the shadows. Soft cheeks now streaked with tears that now flowed freely as his evil laugh erupted once again.

Containing his amusement, a long thin arm stretched itself toward her. "Be my guest. However, might you at least.... offer me a taste, first? It is good manners, you know. Oh yes, very rude of you to enter a man's prison and not offer him something to eat." His breathing became soft pants with his tongue to accent the noise by licking his lips, gracefully. "It has been so very long and the service here is not the best."

Shallow breaths and another twitch of her right shoulder as she watched his movements and then took note of the long chain that dragged behind him. She knew that his freedom of the room stopped abruptly just before the stairs. The woman shook her head. "How-- how long since you've 'eaten'?" Her voice trembled.

"Ten.... twenty....?"

"Hours? ..... Days?"

"Years." His crooked grin and insane eyes turned his most sincere gestures into frantic spasms and only helped to keep her away from him. "You seem like a very smart and tasty tomato. I like clever." He smiled a big, toothy grin. 

The woman scowled. "Stop calling me that! My name is Tamara." Ripping a piece of her teal shirt and holding it up to the wound on her arm, she sat on the third stair and stared down at him as he paced the small length between the wall and the bed. Hissing in pain as her hand slipped and a corner of her ring finger's nail scraped the tender skin of her wound, catching a rise out of her bloodthirsty host. 

He smiled. "Tamara, Tomato. What's the difference?"

"What are you staring at?"

Stopping in place and sniffing the air, he hadn't taken his eyes off of the bloody scrape on her forearm. "Hm? Might I have a look? I was a grand physician-in-training once, you know?" His eyes became dark the more he stared at the wound and his cheeks hollowed with every second that slipped by. His patience grew ever more thin with every teasing and blood-soaked sniff she gave. "A small.... taste...? Possibly...?" He licked his lips and swallowed in anticipation.

"What's your name?" She changed the subject, hoping he'd forget his main objective.

Upon hearing the question, he turned away and started to pace back and forth, again. "My name. My name. I had a name, once. It was.... well, what does it matter?" He smiled cheshirely and edged closer. A strand of hair fell over his thin shoulder and glistened in the light.

"You must have a name." Moving up a stair and brushing the dust and dirt off of her knee, she eyed him warily. "You're going to eat me. Don't you think I deserve to know who I'm going to die at the hands of?"

Smirking and shrugging at the question, he returned to his pacing. "You are very noisy, Tomato." He sighed and played with the few strands that patted lightly at his left shoulder as he walked. "Does a fish ask such a question of its fisherman before he is gutted and boned? Or, a fly ask niceties from the spider, in whom's web it waits?" He stopped in mid-pace again and glanced at her, noting the cloth at her arm. "Would you care for some water to clean that nasty scratch?" Offering the utility sink to her. "I promise I won't move." A dark grin.

Tamara shook her head. "I don't trust monsters who want to have me for dinner."

"Monster?!" He seemed genuinely shocked at the accusation. "My dear, your health means a lot to me. I wish nothing but to see you healthy and strong."

She scoffed and shook her head again. "I don't believe anything a vampire says. I've seen too many horror movies to know your kind never means what they say."

His brow furrowed but he said nothing. 

"What kind of a vampire gets himself chained to a storm cellar wall, anyway? Not a very smart one, are you?" Tamara's question had made her host uneasy and self-conscious. Looking away to assess her wound, she heard him gasp as she removed the dirty cloth from her arm to see.

Dark eyes followed the cloth as he swallowed and licked his lips. He had ignored her previous questions but moved a slow hand upward to the collar at his neck, removing it as she glanced back up at him. "For a taste of that cloth you hold, I will grant you use of my fountain." Again the hand extended to the utility sink only this time, he took two steps back, placing him in front of the easy chair. "I promise." Clasping his hands together in front of him and standing patiently, he smiled and awaited her decision. The hunger lurched in his stomach causing him to fight his own movements. His lips parted as she scoot down several steps, visibly debating on giving him the cloth. His eyes widened as she held out the cloth and flung it to land on the bottom step. A long low groan rose up from inside him as he sunk down into his chair and looked away.

Tamara stared at him for a long moment, listening to his anguish. "How long have you been down here?"

"What does it matter? I have no concept of time. No revelation of hour or day or night, to behold. I am fed once every decade, to keep me weak but alive." He took a long deep sigh. "However, the last time I saw the sky, there was news of a massacre in a small little fort, in Texas, I believe. Tis a shame I was not there to see it."

"The Alamo? You've been here for almost two hundred years? How old are you?" Sliding down one more step and sitting up on the stair, she eyed his features and tried to estimate how old he was.

Another long, deep sigh as he focused on the chain link that secured him to the wall. "I was a young man when Londinium was visited by Hadrian. A fire broke out around then and I was separated from my family. It was under the rubble of one building that once stood tall and graceful that I met a man that changed my life. He told me I would live forever and be so free. Yet, from one prison to another." He bent over and held up the thick and heavy chain with the greatest of ease before dropping it to the floor, hearing the loud rattle of the metal as it met with stone. His voice sounded remorseful as he thought of long-dead family in the age old city he loved. He sat there with his left elbow on the arm and his hand holding up his chin. 

"I moved here just over a year ago. I thought I found love but he turned out to be just another thug that wanted to rule my life. I survived for years on the streets of Los Angeles, dodging gangs and race riots. I got my life together and hitched all the way here for a job as a volunteer at a shelter. I'm going to school now and living in a one bedroom cardboard box but, it's home. Dumb and Dumber upstairs grabbed me as I was coming out of a clinic. The happiest day of my life was ruined by those two." Keeping her eyes on him, she slowly inched down to the sink and carefully turned the faucet knob closest to her. Hissing as the chilled water met with her open wound and washed the dirt away caused her to look down at the water and lose track of her host for a second. When she looked up at him again, she found him standing next to her, placing his hands gently on her arm and lightly washing away the dirt with his cloth napkin. She flinched and froze but wondered why he hadn't leapt at her. "Wha- What would you do, if ever you got out of here?"

His calm and slow massagings ceased as the question registered. Rinsing off the cloth and then carefully wrapping it around the wound before tieing it and walking back to the chair to sit back down, he thought. "I should like to see how the world has changed. See my home again. I, myself, never found love. Servants in those days were not allowed. We were paid so little but able to purchase our freedoms, have a home of our own and own servants, as well. Light, dark, servants were all colours. The day of my demise I had just purchased myself and my brothers and sister. When I awoke, my mother had succumbed to damage from the fire and my young siblings became scattered within the city." 

Tamara felt sadness for him but reminded herself that vampires often played with their victims to achieve their meals. "If you are that old, how is it you can't break that chain?"

"As I am fed only once in a time, when I sleep is when they come in and replace the links so no matter how hard or often I pull on one, I inevitably am forced to start all over after each feeding. I sought refuge here to escape the ghastly war between the Americans and Spanish. Since, I have been handed down from father to child as if I am nothing more than an heirloom. I am fed their business partners and enemies alike to ensure their success. With each drained life, I give my keeper their secrets. Each time I am promised freedom but it never comes." His eyes downcast as he reclined in his chair. He heard her movements but hadn't looked up at her until she stood before him and laid her bloodied cloth across his right knee. His head raised to stare at her face in shock. 

Tamara shook and backed up to stand just out of his reach and watch as he scooped up the cloth and licked and sucked every fresh taste from the cloth.

He paused and tasted her blood in his mouth. It tasted metallic and delicious and strange. Glancing over at her, he understood what the day had brought her. He wanted more of it but didn't want to scare her away from him. "Oh, happy day, my lovely tomato." He smiled knowingly. A rooster crowed from outside. "It will be dawn soon. You will have but a slim chance for freedom, if you choose." His smile faded as he turned back to the chain link fastened to the wall by a thick, bent peg he had worked at for fifty years with no success. Within a blink of a second he was in front of her out of arm's reach, a long, sharpened stake in his hand. "As I slumber, plunge this into my heart. You will be free then." 

"How do I know they'll let me live, once you're dust?"

He shrugged. "All you have to lose, is my prison." Decades of age ebbed away. His face had regained fullness and the dark circles around his eyes had faded, leaving a human-like face that stared back at her.

Tamara swallowed and stared at the piece of wood in his hand. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"You don't." He yawned. 

"Why not let me stake you now and have this all over, even sooner?" 

A pale, monotone expression washed over him. He feigned a smile as their eyes met. "Please do. However, I shall like to be comfortable, if I am to go to rest. After it is done, rest awhile." Another sad smile only this time it was genuine. He yawned again and turned to walk over to the side of the bed closest to them. He sat down and gracefully turned to recline on the bed, rest his head on the pillow. "Good night, Tomato." He lay on his back with his hands folded on his stomach. Closing his eyes, he exhaled one last time and fell silent and still.

Tamara eyed the stake he had placed at the end of the bed. Her eyes moved to his still features and then to his collar and chain that he had draped off the side of the bed. Her head raised as she heard the rooster crow for the first time. Checking her watch on her right wrist, she sighed to herself and sat down on the second step. "Two hours to dawn." Wrapping her arms around her drawn up legs, she stared at the floor and waited quietly. After a silent half hour went by, she yawned and reclined against the cold cement stairs, using her right elbow for a pillow and closed her eyes. She awoke a short time later to the sound of a key in the lock at the door and then a long moan of the hinges as the opened. Opening her eyes and raising her head to see who was coming down the stairs, she flinched scoot back until her back met the cold brick wall. "Let go!" She screamed as Jimmy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet, dragging her up the stairs.

"The boss wants to see you." Lou spoke. His nasally voice deepened since the previous night and his nose now was covered by a fresh white bandage.

"Stop! Let me go!" Tamara screamed and glanced back to the thing on the bed, wishing him to wake and save her.

Jimmy turned back to his partner, who now stood in the middle of the floor, and stabbed a finger toward the cement block the end of the chain was tethered to. "Check it. Go on! He's asleep. What are you worried about?"

Lou swallowed in fear as he cautiously made his way over to the chain end. He bent over and examined the block for any signs of cracking or loosening but froze as a voice spoke to him calmly.

"Hello, Louis." A dark smile as he cornered his prey, not allowing the injured thug to escape. A swift hand moved to wrap around the man's warm neck as a strong thumb lifted the double chin before sharp white teeth sank into the man's jugular. He drank, hungrily as his ears picked up Tamara's screams and the wretched sound of the door slamming and locking into place. Dropping the lifeless body to the floor in a careless release, he licked his lips and reveled in the taste. "You should have laid off the sweets, Louis. It slows the senses, you know?" He then moved to wrap his hands around the thick collar at his neck and pull it apart with almost the greatest of ease and letting it drop with a heavy clang, beside the body. "Each time, you've forgotten to check the collar, Louis. Tsk tsk tsk. Won't make that mistake again, will you?" Tossing a glance around the room, he searched for the young woman. Dashing up the stairs and ramming the door with his full weight, he flung himself tirelessly at the steel until a final thrust caused the rusted hinges to give way and the door to fly open, freeing him from his prison.

He stood on the dirt path between the house and the cellar and looked about himself. The house had grown from a tiny, one room shack to a large, double story house. Distant sounds of passing cars on the blacktop and the faint wisps of wind as they passed through the dead and dying cornstalks. For a long time, he stared at the sky in admiration of its dark blue with specks of silvery stars. His bare feet felt the crunching of the gravel beneath them as he stepped forward. His upturned face basked in the glow of the three-quarter moon. 

A scream came from inside the house, followed by a slamming of a door on the second floor had caught his attention. Taking a long sniff and listening to the sounds of frantic heartbeats, he smirked and made his way to the door. Tapping on the oak door, it was only a moment before the door opened and he stared into the eyes of the middle aged maid. The noise of the outside world fell silent as his will overpowered hers and he was able to gain entry with a wave of her hand. Accepting the invitation with a smile and a bite, he savoured his second victim and made his way through the downstairs, cancelling out anyone crossing his path. In split second movements, he was up the stairs and moving from room to room, finding Jimmy in the third bedroom, cowering in the corner and clutching the wooden cross before him. 

"Hello, James. My my, what a lovely cross you have. Too bad for it, really." Standing in the doorway, and staring hungrily at the crouching figure, wedged into the far left corner of the room, half hidden behind the single bed, he smiled and made his way to stand at the foot of the bed. A sudden flinch as the report of the Sig Sauer fired into his chest. He hissed in pain but remained standing where he was until the clip had emptied. "As I was about to explain, dear James," in an instant, he was in front of the man, holding him up by the neck, "it only works if you believe." 

Jimmy gave a terror-filled yelp as the razor sharp teeth sank into his flesh.

Letting the man fall to the floor in a crumpled and lifeless heap, he could feel more of himself coming back. His gaunt face livened with colour and fullness and his limbs felt stronger with every swallow of blood he took. As his senses returned to him, he began to hear the slightest of sounds. A pair of heart beats in the far back room of the house that his Roland had used as an office and a place to overlook the storm cellar. Still standing over the dead body of the henchman, his eyes moved to the door and his ears listened intently to the whisperings from down the hall.

A soft cry and a gasp told him the young woman that kept his company during the night was in mortal danger. He made his way carefully down the hall and stopped at the closed door, on the right. Placing his hand on the brass knob and finding the door locked, a quick turn and hard pull reduced the door to splinters of wood and metal hinges. "Hello, Tomato." He smiled at her as she sat bound to a high-backed dining chair, across from the door, her back to the window, adjacent to the cellar door. Stepping in and keeping his eyes on her, he sniffed and reveled in the scent of fear that drenched the room. "Hello, Roland. I have missed our games of chess. However," a casual glance over his right shoulder to find his elderly captor standing behind his polished oak desk. 

"Jonathon. Good of you to join us. The young lady and I have been expecting you. Please, come in, old friend." Roland's voice cracked as he recognised the man that stepped into the room. Roland had dressed in his fanciest suit and smiled warmly. The lack of fear had both worked in his favour while hurting him as well. He and Jonathon were well acquainted, since his boyhood yet he felt a passionate yearning for the man that no woman or amount of money could sate. "It has been too long, old friend. Perhaps, we shall discuss a new arrangement?"

His eyes closed and lips widened into a dark smile. "A new arrangement, yes. Only, this one will be of my terms, old friend." Looking back to Tamara, his dark smile turned warm but briefly as he rounded the table between them and placed a cool hand on the cloth bandage on her arm. "She is a spicy tomato. Most delicious, at that. So, I thank you for my treat. During our evening together, she made me realise something I hadn't thought about in nigh two hundred years." Jonathon paused and heard Roland swallow the lump in his throat. "Before my imprisonment, a bargain was struck between your thrice great grandfather and I that I would rid them of those filthy yanks that trampled over his land, in search of this Caleeforneea and their petty greed of gold rock. But as time passed, I was shown little respect for my placement and as such became nothing more than a house feline chasing after vermin. Tsktsktsk. You should have known better, Roland. Instead, you've learned nothing from your grandfather." Looking from Tamara's throbbing vein in her neck, to the man of 87, he sighed when he saw the barrel of a small .36 pointed at him. "Please. I implore you, do not miss as James had. For I shall be very cross if you do."

Roland grinned. "I don't need to hit your heart, my dear boy. The silver bullet will only immobilize you until morning, which is in about thirty minutes from now." The trigger pulled and the weapon discharged, sounding of fire Roland had closed his eyes and waited for the pained scream from the vampire but none came. When he opened his eyes, he stood horrified at the sight of Jonathon holding the hot bullet in the palm of his hand.

"I am taking this as a final amendment to our friendship, Roland. Let us seal the deal." Dropping the silver bullet to the floor and advancing to stand in front of his aging captor, Jonathon let the elderly man believe he was keeping the vampire at bay while keeping the desk between them until his laughter erupted and the again playboy shoved the rolling desk chair at his pursuer, ceasing the laughter and gaining a growl of annoyance. Finally catching the man as Roland tried to run for the door, Jonathon held him against the wall and sneered as he stared at his bone white hand around the man's thick throat. Baring his fangs, his excitement bubbled over with the pitiful mewls of the old man. One final sniff of the fear that emanated from the man and his boredom overcame him. Snapping the man's neck, he bid a monotone farewell to the man. "Such a vile creature modern man is." A sound from behind him caught his ear and he turned to find Tamara still sitting in the chair, her wrists bound to the arms and crying as she had witnessed the vampire at his true nature.

Tamara flinched away, wrenching her eyes shut as the beast moved closer. She could feel his closeness; the sound of his hunger panted at her left ear. Sobbing and pleading quelled as a cool and bony finger rest against her lips. His mouth at her ear and his hands at her wrists.

"Run east. Dawn awakens. Take the noisy contraption and go." The overhead light in the room flickered and the vampire was gone, leaving her free of her bindings and alone.

##

Baltimore, Maryland, 2017

Tamara sat on the middle cushion of a plush couch, reaching to a girl of six and a boy of four, one on each side of her. Her softened tones in her words eased the small children to curl up with their pillows and fall asleep to the sounds of the story of a toy rabbit and the ill child that loved him so. Closing the book with two pages to go, she sighed and stared into the crackling fire in the fireplace. The room was cozy and full of a warmth that did not come from the fireplace at all. She smiled and placed their small blankets over each child before standing up to stretch and make her way to the light switch to turn it off. A face at the window caught her attention and she flinched.

From the doorway of the family room, her husband of five years whispered to her and usurped her attention from the window. 

She motioned for him to leave the children where they slept and to go upstairs and bring down their own pillows and covers while she checked the locks on the doors. When he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, she glanced back to the window to find it empty of the young man's face. Quickly, she grabbed her coat from the hook, beside the door and quietly slipped outside into the brisk, winter's night. 

"Hello, Tomato." A friendly smile and a soft greeting as he stood in the shadows of the tall brick house.

Tamara's breath caught as she turned to face him. "Jonathon. You look..... human."

His smile widened. "Yes. It is a wonder what a good meal and a clipping will do." His blue jeans seemed a size larger than he, as did his denim jacket with gray hoodie underneath. His once long locks that fell well below his waist line now barely brushed his shoulders. A thin lock of bangs swept to the side of his forehead and his face seemed fuller, younger than their initial meeting.

"I'd offer to-" She was cut off by his hand keeping her from finishing her statement. 

Jonathon glanced at the quiet, snow-lined street and then back to her. "It will keep you safe. I will always find you safe, Tamara. Go, be with your family. We will meet again."

The front door opened and her husband stepped out. A med school graduate that had employed the scared young woman and invited her to move east with him. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing. Come inside and get warm." He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked back inside, closing the door and shutting off the lights to snuggle under the blanket and sleep to the glow of the firelight.

 

The End.


End file.
